


Two Men and a… Well, You Know

by Usedtobehmc



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: M/M, Murder, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Abuse, Violence, references to infanticide, references to rape, underage victim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1714892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usedtobehmc/pseuds/Usedtobehmc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spy and Sniper are an endless well of bad ideas.  But at least they're in it together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Men and a… Well, You Know

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed tags.
> 
> This story is completely separate from the "Life After the War" Series, even though I've kept their names and most of their history pretty much the same. Think of it as a tangent like in Back to the Future, heh.

"This is a very bad idea," Sniper had muttered.  Spy said nothing.

 

On principle and good sense, they'd never worked a job together.  Both of them had been in this business long enough to know that if you were partnered with someone you love or even remotely cared about, emotions would start to interfere with your decision-making skills and that's when people got killed.  As soon as you started to think about protecting a hide other than your own, you were compromised.  Or god forbid the bastards you were up against nabbed you both and tortured the other to get you to talk.  Or vice versa.  

 

Too many things could go wrong.  And so they'd never taken a contract together or even accompanied the other on a job.  However maddening it was to be cut off from each other when they were working, it was better than risking being the one who got the other killed.  

 

But Spy needed a lookout and a driver and all of his other associates seemed to have dropped off the face of the Earth.  He made it clear that Sniper had been the last on the list for possible partners, but he'd reached out to all the other channels and either no one was available or they refused to work this one.  Spy begrudgingly understood their unwillingness to take part: it was understandable.  This Murphy character, the target, was a wretched sonnovabitch.  Not only single-handedly responsible for the local crime rate jumping 10% in the last year, but kingpin of a human-trafficking ring that specialized in unspeakable acts of cruelty towards children.  

 

He had money, he had connections, he had protection, he had the guns and he had the cops in his pocket.

 

And the stupid bastard had only brought 7 men to protect him while he lounged in his remote mountain lodge with a few hookers and a boat-load of cocaine.  

 

That's how Sniper ended up driving them both 4 hours into the countryside in almost total silence.  They knew what they were doing was stupid.  It was stupid to go after this guy when it was only the two of them.  It was stupid to work together.  It was stupid to finance the endeavor themselves because everyone was afraid of incurring Murphy's wrath by getting their own cash involved.  

 

But here they were.  Sniper pulled the rented car to a stop a mile away from the ornate mansion where their target vacationed and put it in park, zipping his jacket up tight around his neck.  With the car off and the heat killed, the temperature in the car was dropping by the second.  "I'll keep the surveillance running until you're half a mile from rendezvous.  You remember the code words?"

 

Spy checked all of his weapons and cloaking devices.  Packed plenty of extra ammo and slipped the pure white balaclava over his head.  The winter camo clung tightly to his frame and kept his body warmth contained while allowing him freedom of movement.  "Of course.  I'll keep you updated when I can, radio silence when I get to the house.  Objective is to take out Murphy, his men, and the security equipment to maintain our anonymity."  He took a deep breath.  "I'll be quick.  No heroics, no showing off."

 

"Promise?"

 

"You have my word."  He nodded, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.  He looked down the road, slipping his insulated gloves over his hands.  "If it all goes wrong--"

 

"Then you say the panic word and I'll come get you.  No cyanide.  No,"  He held a hand up to silence Spy's protests.  "As long as we're being stupid, let's be really stupid.  Might as well."

 

" _Salaud_ , I do not want them to kill us both."  Spy grumbled, avoiding eye contact.

 

"Then you shouldn't have asked me to come!"  Came the hissed response, followed quickly by, "And I shouldn't have agreed.  We're both in this, so that's the way it's gonna be and I don't wanna hear another word about it."  Sniper pulled his bomber hat over his head and leaned over to loop an arm around Spy.  "I've got you.  No matter what."

 

Spy seemed to visibly deflate, several emotions running through him at once, but he pushed them all aside in favor of a twinge of affection.  "Fine.  I'm off.  Wish me luck."

 

They kissed, partly wanting to make it long and drawn-out just in case… but the other half, the practical half that said they'd lingered to long already, won out and they parted.  Spy let himself out of the car and jogged into the woods without any further preamble.  In a few moments, he was gone from sight and Sniper was left alone in the car on an empty road in the mountains.  

 

Sniper adjusted his earpiece and the tiny microphone that clung to his cheek.  "You receiving me?"

 

" _Oui_."  Came the muffled reply.  " _Estimated time of arrival, 15 minutes.  This snow is heavy and it's making the going a bit slow_."

 

"Well let me know when you're there."  Sniper tamped down the adrenaline that threatened to flood his system and took a few deep breaths.  

 

The minutes passed agonizingly slowly, and not even the sight of the gently falling snow could calm his frayed nerves.  

 

The scratchy sound of the radio switching to life startled him.  " _At the perimeter.  Only two men outside.  A guard dog.  There are a few security cameras, but I can reach them with my baton.  I'm going to cloak now."_

 

"Alright."  Sniper croaked, clearing his throat.  "Good luck.  I'll be waiting."

 

And with that, the radio went dead yet again, plunging Sniper into a silence that seemed even worse and more crushing than before.  No wonder they'd never done jobs together before, this was fucking terrible.  To keep busy, Sniper leaned back and pulled his duffle bag off the back seat.  He mechanically checked and loaded his trusty SMG, leftover from the BLU days, along with a few pistols which he secured tightly into the holsters under his coat.  

 

*********

 

The sound of gunfire in the distance made Sniper roll down a window and crane his neck as if it would become clearer.  " _Bugger_ ," he spit, and spoke into his radio.  "Shots fired, get back at me with a status when you can talk.  ASAP."  

 

The plan was to kill as many as he could without de-cloaking or resorting to guns.  Spy was deadliest with a knife, edge weapons were his forté and his best shot at winning a fight, even against a man with a gun.  If someone was firing, it meant that his cover was blown and the odds were increasingly against him.  

 

He waited for an awful five minutes before there were a few more gunshots far off in the distance.  The sound was no closer, meaning the fight had not yet left the house.  "Status, get back at me ASAP."  He tried again, praying to whatever entity that may have been listening that this time Spy would answer.  

 

Fed up with the non-response, Sniper got out of the car and retrieved his rifle from the trunk of the car and tossed it far to haphazardly into the passenger's side before he started the car and roared down the empty, snow-covered roared towards Murphy's mansion.  "Right then, I'm coming in."  He barely remembered to transmit the message, and he only hoped Spy would hear it.  

 

The house loomed in the distance as Sniper sped towards it, tires desperately trying to keep the car on a straight path over the ice and snow.  It took him only three minutes to reach the gate and he floored the gas, careening through the ornate blockade with a terrific crunch that jolted him to his core and rattled his brain.  The car screeched to a halt inside the perimeter of the fence, effectively ruining the high-quality aesthetic of the courtyard.  

 

The first thing he noticed were two dead guards on the steps of the front of the house.  They were predictably dressed in black; boots, kevlar vests, semi-automatic weapons, the whole nine.  Their throats were cleanly slit, and they'd clearly died more than a few minutes prior: the way their bodies lied sprawled on the steps told Sniper they'd died quickly.  Sniper held his rifle at the ready listened for any commotion behind the doors before he gently turned the doorknob and pulled.  

 

Snapping the rifle sharply to his shoulder, he did a quick scan of the foyer and the grand staircase that immediately greeted him.  He expected chaos, but was greeted with silence.  He did a quick sweep of the downstairs, encountering the occasional very dead bodyguard and broken piece of art.  His SMG bounced comfortingly at his hip but did little to calm his nerves.

 

A piece of the wall exploded by his head and he dropped to his knees, instinct and little else kicking in to aim the gun and pull the trigger.  The death rattle of one of Murphy's goons was the only noise before the thump of a dead body hitting the floor.  Sniper froze, listening for footsteps, shouts, any sort of commotion that usually accompanied the sound of someone getting shot… but there was nothing.  Total silence again.  

 

Deciding there was nothing of interest on the first floor, Sniper circled back and made his way up the stairs, hugging the wall and peering carefully upwards for any movement of shadows.  

 

His shock was palpable when he reached the top of the stairs and found Spy, collapsed against the wall and covered in blood.  Sniper tamped down on his panic and went into emergency mode: assess and escape.  He knelt by Spy and took his face in hands, speaking softly.  "Mate, you with me?  You injured?"

 

Spy's only reaction was to blink slowly and gaze over Sniper's shoulder, eyes unseeing.

 

"Spy!  Look at me."  He sternly commanded, shaking the man.  When there was again no answer, Sniper patted him down, looking for bullet holes, knife wounds, anything that could be the source of blood.  After a brief inspection, he was relieved to find that none of it was Spy's blood.  

 

The sound of a baby's cry wafted down the hallway from one of the bedrooms.  Soft and gentle, it was even more startling than being shot at, moments before.

 

Spy's eyes closed, and Sniper felt his blood run cold.  

 

Sniper left Spy where he sat and headed towards the noise, pulling his SMG up and readying it to fire.  When he slowly entered the dark bedroom, he felt like he was going to be sick.  

 

Tied to the bed, naked and flat on her back, was a young woman.  Very young, in fact.  She may have been in her early teens, but it was difficult to tell.  It was obvious that she had been dead for a very short time, though she had no obvious injuries.  The sickly color and waxy look of her skin did nothing to hide the fact that she'd been very pretty, but obviously underfed and mistreated.  A prisoner.  A slave.  

 

"Bleedin' _christ_ …"  he lowered his gun and tried not to vomit, anger and repulsion and despair swirling through him all at once and making him dizzy.  His first instinct was to kill someone for this; someone needed to die slowly.  But instead, some twinge at the back of his brain made him remove his hat and hold it to his chest.  He crept closer and pulled the sheet from the foot of the bed up until it covered her face, and let it settle.  

 

From the floor came a movement so slight that Sniper almost missed it.  But there, wrapped in a hooded sweatshirt and left propped on some pillows, was a newborn baby.  

 

"I believe it's a few days old," Spy's voice came from the doorway, making Sniper jump and nearly shout with surprise.  "She must have given birth in here."  The hollow tone of his voice made Sniper wince: he had heard it before and it always broke his heart.  

 

Sniper let his SMG relax against his hip again, held there by the loop on his belt and knelt down close.  He pulled his gloves off and unwrapped the newborn, not sure what he was looking for but hoping for nothing of note.  

 

"It's a girl," he breathed.  "Poor little thing."  Without another thought, he re-wrapped the squirming, red-faced baby tightly in the sweatshirt and picked her up, cradling her close.  "Where's Murphy?"

 

"Dead."  Spy stood a little straighter.  "I slit his throat and let him bleed out slowly.  Then I put him out back for the wildlife to pick at."  Mechanical, he took no pleasure in describing the punishment he'd doled out.  "He begged for his life."

 

"Good,"  Sniper growled, gently rocking the mewling infant girl back to sleep.  All the gunfire must have startled her half to death.  "We need to leave.  You take care of the cameras?"

 

Spy nodded, removing his balaclava after thinking about it for a moment.  "Destroyed the footage.  It was one of the first things I did."  

 

"Good.  Let's get out of here.  We'll tip off the police when we've put this place behind us."  He let his free hand settle on Spy's shoulder.  "Are you… are you going to be alright?"  

 

Spy let his gaze settle over Sniper's shoulder on the girl who lay under the bed-sheet.  "This type of… cruelty.  I hate that it's familiar."  He turned on his heel and walked solemnly out of the room.  

 

************

 

When they climbed into the rental car and Sniper made a motion to hand Spy the baby, the Frenchman flinched back and gave him an incredulous look.

 

Sniper responded, "Can't hold her and drive, mate."

 

Spy held out his hands like he was being handed an especially finicky bomb and eased the sleeping girl against his chest, staring down into the face of total innocence at peace with the world.  

 

"Mind her head," Sniper provided helpfully, moving one of Spy's hands so that it was gently braced against the baby's neck and head, ensuring that it wouldn't be jolted by any unexpected movement the car might make.  

 

They were extremely lucky that Sniper hadn't totaled the car, crashing it through the gate.  The front was pretty banged up, but it appeared to be mostly cosmetic, and could easily be explained away as a fender bender while driving over a patch of black ice.  The engine started on the first try, and there were no odd sounds from the engine as Sniper drove the car down the winding private road that would lead them back to civilization.  

 

They drove in total silence for over an hour before Sniper pulled the car into a mostly empty rest area so Spy could finally avail himself of the blood-spattered camo.  

 

When they got back into the car, Sniper asked the obvious question as they watched traffic zoom by.  "What d'you reckon we should do with her?"

 

Spy didn't look up from the sleeping infant, who was back in his arms.  "Who would take her?"

 

Sniper shrugged, adjusting his aviators.  "Convent?  Local fire department?  Plenty of places would--"

 

"I don't want to do those things,"  Spy interrupted.  His voice was soft, and one of his thumbs began to idly stroke the baby's forehead.  When his arms tightened slightly around their precious cargo, Sniper's stomach tied itself in knots.  

 

"Listen, Henri… we can't keep her.  There's no way.  And it… it's not right."

 

"I'll tell _you_ what's not right--"  Spy spit, his tone dangerous and feral as his body curled more so around the baby.  "Mothers giving birth in chains, men standing around laughing while she screams for mercy, they beat her until she was quiet until she couldn't lift her head, _ils ont mis le bébé dans la neige et la mère hurlaient_ \--" he was frantic now and had woken the baby, who's feeble cries were more like squeaks from tiny lungs.  

 

Sniper leaned across the car and pulled him into what resembled a hug made extremely awkward by the angles and restrictions of the vehicle.  "Alright love, I'm sorry.  It's okay, you're safe.  You're with me and you're safe."

 

Spy was gasping like he'd been strangled, pushing the baby carefully into Sniper's arms and unbuckling himself.  "I have to-- I need to get out."  He stumbled out of the car and stalked off to a clear area where he could suck down lungfuls of air and try to calm down.  His face felt hot and his heart wouldn't stop pounding, and ringing through his brain were those old sounds and smells of the hell he'd escaped from all those years ago. 

 

Sniper watched him pace and try to catch his breath from the warmth of the car.  He looked down at the baby again and spoke softly, "This is a very bad idea."

 

**************


End file.
